


The Gardener

by wynnebat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Fix-It, Gen, Master of Death Harry Potter, Pre-Relationship, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: The gardener smiles, a small, secretive thing. He doesn’t look like he might be a snake or a devil in disguise, but his eyes are very green. “Maybe you are. My name is Harry. This is my garden.”Klaus huffs, amused. “It’s as simple as that?”“People always make things more complicated than they really are.”“Says the man who might be God.”





	The Gardener

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by ursaerythraeus.

Klaus dies.

It’s been a long time in coming, and he’s not even surprised to have died on a dance floor. He walks for a while. Everything is all quiet, black and white, and he feels like he walked into an old movie or someone’s broken television. Except that’s really not it, not at all, because Klaus remembers his breath leaving his body. It hadn’t hurt as much as he’d thought it would. He keeps walking until he reaches a grand garden.

“Please don’t be the Garden of Eden,” Klaus says, eying the apple trees.

He is tired, his chest still hurts, and this does not feel like what he thinks death should feel like. And he’s an expert. The sun is beginning to set, painting everything in golden hues. The deeper he gets into the garden, the more colors there are, until they are so deep and bright that they’re distracting even in the dimming light. Klaus doesn’t have much of an appetite, but he eyes one of the perfect red apples with want and wariness. There’s never been a bad idea that hasn’t immediately appealed to him. The garden’s sole other living being—with where they are, Klaus isn’t going to try calling him human—is a gardener in denim overalls, leaning back against one of the trees and popping a strawberry in his mouth. He wears circular glasses even in this place.

The gardener waves at Klaus.

Klaus shrugs, waves back. When he approaches, he adds, “I’m agnostic.”

That prompts a raised eyebrow from the gardener. “I’m not God. Or at least I don’t think I am.” He holds out a wooden bowl to Klaus. It’s full of berries, from raspberries to redcurrant.

Klaus doesn’t even try to resist. He flops down onto the ground, cross-legged, and grabs a handful. He pops one in his mouth, then another, then asks, “Does eating these mean I have to stay here?”

“That’s a different set of myths,” the gardener replies, joining him on the ground. He takes an apple out of the bowl. It hadn’t been there before. Klaus watches him take a bite and feels mildly disturbed, but mostly curious. “What brings you here?”

“Where is here, anyway?”

“You haven’t guessed?”

“I’m hoping I’m wrong.”

The gardener smiles, a small, secretive thing. He doesn’t look like he might be a snake or a devil in disguise, but his eyes are very green. “Maybe you are. My name is Harry. This is my garden.”

Klaus huffs, amused. “It’s as simple as that?”

“People always make things more complicated than they really are.”

“Says the man who might be God.”

“I’m not that megalomaniacal.”

But Klaus has met a lot of people. He likes them, people. Good and bad, happy and sad, he likes hearing their stories and knowing they’re alive to tell them. Out of all the Hargreeves siblings, he thinks he’s the most sociable one. And he’s never met a person like Harry. “You’re closer to God than I am—and I can talk to the dead.”

“Oh, that is interesting,” Harry says, an alertness entering his expression. It’s disconcerting, but it’s not cold, not cruel. It’s all the attention that a maybe-God has to offer. “That must be why you’re here. You’re one of mine. It’s very nice to meet you.”

There is a leading space after Harry’s words, left for his name, and Klaus gives it to him. That’s another set of myths, too. “Klaus. As for why I’m here, it’s a long story.”

Harry waves a hand around them. “We have time. Tell me your story. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a good one.”

And maybe Klaus shouldn’t, maybe he should be trying to get back to the real world, but he sits there and he talks. It’s been a very long time since he could just do that. Too often, people don’t listen to him, or they listen only if they want to hear what he’s saying. Other times, it hurts too much to speak. The worse it gets, the less he knows how to say it. The kidnapping, Luther, Dave. Dave. Klaus means to start from the time his father dies, but within minutes, he starts the story again, this time from the true starting place: the Umbrella Academy. It’s fucked-up, all of it, and yet Harry doesn’t flinch away. He doesn’t tell Klaus to stop, no matter how many tangents he goes on. It’s probably just because Harry hasn’t heard anyone talk in a very long time, but it’s still nice. He tells Harry about his father’s death and the hole that Five’s disappearance left in him. Five’s reappearance hasn’t filled it much. He’s an entirely different person. They all are.

He talks about Dave. It hurts. He hadn’t meant to do more than mention his name, the same way he hadn’t told his siblings about his time in Vietnam or that he’d traveled in time at all. Five had guessed; the others are too used to Klaus’ outlandish stories. Most of them are even true, not that anyone cares. He misses Dave like an open wound, in a way that he’s never had to miss or to love anyone before. He hadn’t been ready for it. Growing up, he’d barely understood what love meant, and as an adult he’d ran from it. Back in the past, he’d been drowning, and Dave had been his saving grace.

By the time he reaches the moment of his death, Klaus’ voice should be sore. It isn’t. He doesn’t feel tired or hungry or in need of a fix. Instead, his fingers are stained with the berries’ juice, and for the first time in a very long time, he feels alright.

“That’s it, I guess,” Klaus says with a shrug. “I woke up here and met God.”

“Still not God.”

“Yeah, your hair is too messy for that. And you’re wearing overalls. I don’t think God should wear overalls.”

“I like them,” Harry says in reply.

If he’s honest, Klaus does too. They’re the only thing Harry’s wearing, no shirt underneath or shoes on his feet, and the denim fabric looks faded and soft. He’s always had a thing for people who can move with so much confidence. Although of course Harry can—he’s a God, or a not-God, and it’s maybe the same thing—while Klaus is only human. And very, very dead.

Harry stands up, cracks his spine and stretches his arms. There is no dirt under his nails, nor on his clothes. Klaus should probably stop checking out a not-God.

When he’s ready, Harry stretches a hand out to Klaus to help him out. Klaus takes it. It’s strangely comforting to feel callouses on Harry’s hands.

“Alright, we’ve sat around long enough,” Harry says once they’re both up. “Time to fix things.”

 _I_ _’m dead,_ Klaus thinks, but what is death to a not-God? He’s already had so many chances on earth. Mostly wasted chances, but fuck trying to do something with your life. All it does is give you a bullet in the head. “Do you mean it?”

“I do,” Harry says. “I’ve never stopped an apocalypse. It should be exciting.” He hasn’t let go of Klaus’ hand. After a moment, Harry turns his head, looking suddenly sheepish. “Ah. I don’t actually know where you’re from.”

“New York. Earth.” Klaus furrows his brow. “The Milky Way? I have to tell you, I don’t know much about the solar system. We weren’t taught the standard curriculum as kids. Not even close.”

“No, that’s not it,” Harry murmurs, and takes Klaus’ other hand. Hello and goodbye together. Harry’s skin is overly warm. “Let’s see what we can do.”

And then Harry transports them to the moment of Klaus’ death. With some magic and without all the family drama, Harry manages to get a handle on the situation and finds a way to help Vanya avoid the meltdown. There are no locked rooms involved. With the apocalypse now over, Klaus asks for one more thing, and Harry smiles and says he was always going to give it to him. They go back farther this time. Dave survives the war, heads home to his family, and Harry and Klaus watch from the sidelines. Harry offers to let Klaus stay here, to help him build a life in the past, but Klaus knows he belongs in the future. He loves Dave; he doesn’t love this time, this place. In the future again, Klaus and Harry sit down on a park bench, and Klaus offers Harry a room in the Hargreeves mansion. Klaus is staying there while he figures out what he wants to do next.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been human,” Harry muses. It doesn’t sound like a no at all.

“Come on,” Klaus says, and Harry takes his offered hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [tumblr](https://wynnefic.tumblr.com/).


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